Sovereign
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The Sovereign-class battlecruiser was deployed in time for the End War. As Matt Horner noticed, its class designation was a departure from that of previous classes, which took their namesakes from Old Earth mythologies. As Valerian explained, it was intentional.


**Sovereign**

The _Harbinger_ was a _Sovereign_ -class battlecruiser. It was also the one that Valerian Mengsk found himself onboard, delivering a speech to those assemble on the bridge, and through a broadcast, the members of the First Fleet of the Dominion Armada. One thing he'd learnt over the last five years was the importance of morale, of being a beacon to the throngs of humanity that called the Koprulu sector home. He didn't have to be a genuine beacon, but that wasn't the point. Present yourself as being perfect, and people would follow your every word. Yet not so perfect that people wouldn't aspire to be like you.

"And I thank you for your continued service in this dark time. Know that the hopes and prayers of every citizen go with you, whether it be in the darkest depths, or in the glow of the brightest stars." He raised his glass. "To the Dominion."

"To the Dominion," the bridge crew said, raising glasses in turn. Valerian glanced at the hover-cam that was buzzing around him.

 _Three…two…one…_

The camera shut off and buzzed back to its owner. A Wesley…Edwards? Eobard? Edmundson? Something beginning with "e" at any rate. Valerian didn't care. He forced a smile when Wesley E. said "that's a wrap," and accepted that he'd have forgotten the man's first name along with his second within the hour.

Aspiration. He looked out through the bridge's viewport, into the darkness of space that lay beyond. Aspirations to be like him were aspirations that he doubted that many people had. The Confederacy had aspired to recreate the glories of Old Earth, but had replaced the fanatical dogma of the UPL with corruption and ineptitude. Arcturus Mengsk had aspired to bring down the Confederacy, but had replaced it with a totalitarian regime that had caused dissent to spread like wildfire. Standing here now, Valerian wondered how long it would be to have his own challenger. He'd aspired to be ruler of the Dominion, to be a better man than his father. He'd never imagined that his father's end would come from his own hand, at least in part. Arcturus Mengsk had died at the hands of the Queen of Blades, and Dominion Intelligence "theorized" that the zerg had left Korhal under the knowledge that their attack would falter once the Dominion Fleet broke through. Intelligent citizens wondered if the attack was drawn off because the Dominion was no longer a threat to the zerg. So far, none had suspected Valerian's hand, and if they did…well, maybe they could live with that, he supposed. One emperor replacing another – they could worry about what came tomorrow, after they outlived today.

"Nice speech."

He didn't glance at Admiral Horner as he joined him. 'Today,' he reflected. Today stretched into tomorrow, but ever remained today, with the sun high and its shadows long. He'd never held the highest regard for the writings of Elizabeth Pennebaker, but now, as war raged throughout the Koprulu sector, he had to admit that she had a point. Tomorrow would be like today – more battles, more deaths, more pretty speeches.

"I'm glad you liked it," Valerian murmured.

"I didn't say I liked it, I said it was nice."

Valerian glanced at Horner, noting that the admiral didn't have a glass in his hands. Abstinence, he wondered? Or some attempt to set an example to his crew? To outshine the emperor himself?

"Fair enough," Valerian said. "Would it have helped if I mentioned Mira Han?"

Something flickered in Horner's eyes. A flicker that said "watch it" or "damn, I need a drink." Maybe both.

"Probably not," Horner murmured.

"Probably not," Valerian agreed. "But we do know the value of truth and all that…"

"…and the value of discretion."

"Of course."

"Which is why we shouldn't…"

"…advertise that Admiral Matt Horner is working with a mercenary wanted in over a dozen systems?" Valerian took a sip of his champagne. "No. Of course not."

"Of course not," Horner repeated.

Another silence descended between the two men. Valerian, for his part, didn't begrudge Horner for accepting the aid of Mira's Marauders. It would cost them a fortune when the war was over, but at least they'd still be alive to spend money. And, from what he'd heard, the Marauders had proven their weight in gold. Horner ruled the skies, Han ruled the ground, and while Valerian had been tempted to make a "Horner on top, Han on bottom" joke, he'd bit his tongue. He'd let Horner do his thing. He doubted the man fully trusted him, but Horner had his heart in the right place. He'd fight Amon's forces as long as they remained the main threat, just as Raynor would. After that…well, that was tomorrow. Today was still today.

"How's the _Harbinger_?" Valerian asked.

Horner looked at him. "Pardon?"

"The _Harbinger_ ," he repeated. "Or rather, the _Sovereign_ class."

Horner shrugged. "It's fine," he said.

"Missing the _Hyperion_ still?"

"No, of course not."

 _Liar._

Valerian didn't begrudge him though. He knew enough shipmen to understand the value that a ship could have to its captain, not to mention its crew. More than once, his father had ranted that Raynor still had "his" battlecruiser. He himself missed the furnishings of the _Bucephalus_. Because the _Sovereign_ -class was a scaled down warship. Bulk sacrificed for speed, a miniaturized Yamato cannon designed for faster, but lower powered shots. Officially, the _Sovereign_ -class was part of a new fleet initiative. Unofficially, it was part of Valerian's strategy to crank out warships as fast as possible. He knew that Amon commanded entire broods worth of zerg, but against the Moebius Corps and Golden Armada, perhaps attrition would be the best strategy.

"I have to ask though," said Horner. "Why 'Sovereign?'"

"Hmm?"

"Why 'Sovereign?'" he repeated. "I mean, _Leviathan_ , _Behemoth_ , _Hercules_ , _Minotaur Gorgon_ , every one of those class names has its roots in an Old Earth mythology. Why the change?"

Valerian raised an eyebrow. "We're fighting for the future of humanity and you're wondering about a class name?"

"Just curious." Horner didn't raise an eyebrow. Instead, he made himself stand even straighter. "One little mystery of the universe I'd like to know before I die."

"That's a rather pessimistic attitude."

"Didn't say when I'd die. Or how."

"Very true." Valerian smiled. "Alright Matt, I'll tell you. I figured that the _Sovereign_ would be a good class name because of the break with tradition."

"How?"

"Well, you said so yourself. All those other classes take their roots from an Earth mythology. Either they're giant fishes who eat people, or a brute who completes twelve tasks in recompense for murdering his family, or a beast that devours Athenian youths every seven years, or a woman with snake hair that could turn people into stone. And in both of these mythologies, either there's a single sky daddy lording over things, or a bunch of twats looking out over humanity from their palace on Mount Olympus. The gods are ineffectual at best, and callous at worst."

Now it was Horner's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Didn't think you disliked myths so much."

"On the contrary, I like them quite a lot." He paused, remembering of simpler times. Of those stories being read to him. Of his mother. "But in the past six years, we've seen giant fish creatures take out battleships, we've seen that Earth is still interested in us, and in the past few months, we've seen a literal god decide that we'd all be better off dead."

"I don't think Amon is a literal god."

"Fair enough. But god or no god…" He sighed. "Never underestimate the power of symbolism Matt. The _Sovereign_ is named as such, because it's a sign of the times. We can't look to the stories of Earth for hope, because Earth is all too real, and not in a good way. We can't look to gods or myths for comfort, because they aren't real, and the only godlike being we've ever encountered wants us all dead. In all of that, the _Sovereign_ is called that because…that's what we are. Sovereign. We're here, we make our own path, we're the masters of our own destiny. Zerg, protoss, xel'naga, it doesn't matter. God or no god, I want to show him that we're unbowed. That we…are the gods now."

He paused, and took a sip of his champagne. Horner just stood there, smiled, and nodded his head to the side. Valerian glanced, and saw a number of crew members avert their gazes, finding great interest in their beverages, the weather, or Kyla Velassi. Valerian looked back at Matt.

"Blew it Valerian – should have made that your speech."


End file.
